


Justice and Peace

by thehaakun



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-22 21:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13773000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehaakun/pseuds/thehaakun
Summary: She can see the princess mouthing words, and she somehow hears them, by some kind of magic or godly intervention, she hears them.A song. The pendant at the princess’ neck glows a radiant blue, the crystal within shining with light.Their eyes meet, and the song fills her heart.---[F!Azurrin] The royal family of Valla seeks a knight for the princess, and it's a process that's been years in the making.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here i go again doing that thing where i make my own damn content b/c i'm a thirsty weak little binch for my otp lmao
> 
> Normal corrin AU, Valla is a safe kingdom, Arete & her daughter are the royal family -- good stuff, good gay times

She’s six when she first sees the princess of Valla.

There’s a parade down the main road of the capitol, and her father props her up on his shoulders so she can get a glimpse of the royal family above the crowd of bystanders lining the side of the street.

Her tiny fingers cling onto her father’s ashen gray hair, and she watches in awe as parade floats amble down, vibrant performers walking alongside the massive contraptions tossing flowers and confetti to celebrate the Day of Dragons. The crowds cheer and clap as bands of musicians play songs of merriment and joy and as acrobats flip and tumble and cartwheel down the main road.

The last three floats are more grand than any before. 

She sees the Dawn Dragon of Hoshido first, its mechanical white wings retracting to reveal the royal family standing at the forefront of the float, the king and queen smiling and waving, their children standing in front of them. The eldest son stands rapt at attention like his father, nodding at the crowd. The second son stands sullenly by his mother’s side, arms crossed, but even he occasionally gives a small wave to the crowd.

Right after comes the Dusk Dragon of Nohr, the black wings pulling apart to show its royal family clad in the signature black armor of the famous blacksmiths of the Western country. They politely wave and nod to the crowd, and a few wolf whistles makes the eldest son blush, while the eldest princess only blows kisses in response. 

It’s the last dragon, the Silent Dragon of Valla, that makes the crowd really roar and cheer. There, atop its crested back, wave the beloved king and queen.

When her mother tugs at her sleeve and smiles, pointing at the small figure standing in between the king and queen, she squints. 

The princess of Valla has the same hair as her mother, the same eyes as her father, and she clings to her father’s leg, shy and timid as a rain of flowers are thrown onto their great dragon float.

She doesn’t really think anything special then. She just feels disappointment when the Silent Dragon lumbers on down the street, and the parade ends, the crowd dispersing.

She’s too young to really understand fate and destiny anyway. 

\---

She’s eight when her father is promoted to captain of the Royal Guard.

When her mother brings her to the castle to watch her father’s formal appointment by the king, she bounces on the balls of her feet, bored with the formal decorum and somber voices in the main hall. Her mother shushes her, presses a hand to the top of her head to get her to stand still.

She watches as her father takes out his sword -- Yato -- and offers it to the king, who gently takes it in both hands and lightly taps the flat end of the blade on each of her father’s shoulders.

Behind the king, stands two grand thrones of polished white marble; the queen sits in one, and next to her stands the princess of Valla.

She still doesn’t really think anything special then. She gives a huff of impatience, and she wants to go home and pick up her wooden sword and spar with her friend Silas. 

\---

She’s ten when her father starts formally teaching her the ways of the warrior, the knight, the soldier.

Her mother watches from the doorway as she takes her lessons in the backyard of their home, her father’s sharp voice and commanding aura whipping her into shape. He deigns to bring Silas in for training too, just so they have someone to learn with.

The two pick things up quickly; she has a competitive streak fueled by her own determination and resolve, and he has a desire to fulfill his dream of becoming a knight of chivalry and heroism.

When practice is over and they’re panting, her mother comes forward to bring them drinks and to pat them both on the head, commending them for their progress.

She has no idea that after each practice, as she and her best friend lie down spread-eagled in the grass to watch the clouds chug along by, that her mother and father are discussing her skills and abilities, how they’re improving so rapidly, how she’s one of the best pupils he’s ever had.

She has no idea that her father and mother tell the king and queen of her talent, either. 

She has no idea, as she and her best friend practice throwing punches at each other, that the king and queen wish for her to become a knight of the Royal Guard.

\---

She’s sixteen when she next sees the princess of Valla.

Her father brings her to the castle to shadow him on his daily duties as captain of the Royal Guard. She’s grown a bit more serious now, taller and back ramrod straight, hands behind her back as she stands at her father’s side as he sits at his desk, mulling over recruitment paperwork.

To be a knight, he’d said as he skimmed a long resume, means not just fighting. You carry a great deal of responsibility with protecting those who keep our kingdom a good and just place. You are a blade that cuts the darkness, a shield that defends the light.

She nods in understanding, and a page scuttles into her father’s office, saying that the king is requesting his presence.

Her and her father depart for the main hall right away, her father’s sword at his hip, and she watches it as the sun glints off the golden hilt as they stride past stained glass windows. Someday, he’d said to her, you too will wield Yato to protect the peace.

When they reach the main hall, both the king and queen are seated at their thrones, and the princess stands at her mother’s side; her breath catches in her throat and she nearly stumbles in her smooth stride.

She can’t help but stare, and she nearly runs into her father’s back as he stops and stands at attention -- she hurriedly pulls herself together and salutes as well.

She has no words to describe how beautiful the princess is. And standing just fifteen paces away, she can truly see that the princess has her mother’s good looks, and the strapless dress she’s wearing shows off her curves and bare shoulders, nicely accenting the golden pendant that hangs at her neck.

She barely hears her father introducing her to the king and she has to swallow before almost stuttering through the polite greeting to the royalty of Valla, kneeling before them as she brushes her indigo cape behind her.

She’s humbled and surprised when the king and queen ask her a few questions, polite and cordial, about her training. She tells them the truth, that she looks forward to serving the crown, to bringing justice and peace to the realm. Next to her, her father puffs out his chest with pride.

She doesn’t know, as the king dismisses them with a smile and nod and she turns around, following her father out the hall, that the princess too, remained a bit speechless as the king and queen ask her what she thinks of the captain’s daughter.

\---

She’s eighteen when she hears of the tourney.

The capitol is abuzz with the news of it. Whispers and hushed voices fill the taverns in the evenings, that the king is looking for a knight for his daughter, the great princess of Valla. Only the best can be her knight, he’d announced, and a competition will determine who is worthy -- and fate will crown the winner.

Silas claps her on the shoulder, grinning, jerking his thumb at the sign on the board. He suggests they try, couldn’t hurt, right?

Besides, he says as he takes a swig of his tankard, you’ve bested every fool who’s challenged you. 

She leans her head on her hand, elbow on the table as she reads over the sign again. Sure, she’s good. But she doesn’t know if she’s good enough to face off against the kingdom’s greatest warriors. She’s not arrogant enough to say that she’s  _ the _ best.

And in the back of her mind, she wonders what the princess of Valla thinks of this, and she wonders if she’ll get to see the princess again at the tourney.

The day of the tourney, she dons her armor and places Yato in its sheath at her hip. She looks at herself in the mirror, and her mother behind her smiles encouragingly and presses a kiss to her cheek. Her father, meanwhile, claps her on the shoulder and gives her a nod of reassurance, and she takes a deep breath. There’s no harm in trying.

What she doesn’t know, as she enters the arena, is that the king and queen are closely observing her, and her father stands at the king’s side, biting his lip as he watches his daughter pull Yato out. The queen and the princess sit on either side of the king, and the princess clutches her pendant in her hand as she watches the fights unfold.

It’s duel after duel after duel. Yato grows heavy in her hand, but she fights on, panting and feeling her blood running hot through her veins as her opponent falls to the ground, shouting surrender. The only reprieve she has from the next fight is one or two battles of other warriors duking it out for knighthood. 

Sadly, Silas hadn’t made it far, cut down by a stealthy ninja from Hoshido. He nurses his wounds, mainly his pride, as he helps her recover in the breakroom. As the battles continue, the breakroom empties of would-be fighters, having lost their hope to win, and soon enough, it’s only her and Silas.

You’ve done it, he says in awe, you’ve gotten this far. Just one more and you’ll win.

But she’s so exhausted. Her muscles scream with pain each time she moves, and the last battle she’d been body slammed into the wall by a massive armored brute from Nohr, and she swears a few ribs are broken as each ragged breath she takes feels like a stab in her chest. She can barely reach up to wipe away blood from her busted lip, and her hand falls limp to her side as she closes her eyes, taking advantage of every second she has before she has to walk out into the arena again.

Silas frowns at her in worry, unsure of what he can do, he’s not a mage, he doesn’t know how to heal, and she can hear the anxiety in his voice. No, it’s alright, this might be the end of her tourney stakes.

The next opponent, they both knew, was no pushover. She was a practiced ninja who was quick with daggers whose poison could knock out a grown man in seconds, a lethal enemy who won each battle through quick and decisive throws of the dagger in her hands or through the rapid jabs of her hands at opponents’ pressure points. Whispers had abound the breakroom earlier that she was an unknown, and those who faced her all had the same thing -- that this woman was someone to be feared, and that she was formerly a retainer for the royal family of Hoshido.

She hears the call of her name, and she staggers up, wincing and gritting her teeth as she grips the heavy weight of Yato in her hand. 

When she enters the arena, the sun glaring relentlessly from the center of the sky, she hears it for the first time.

The shouts and whoops and cheers of the crowd somehow fade into silence in her ears, and her vision goes crystal clear as she turns to look up in the stands, at where the king and the queen and the princess reside. Even from all the way down on the ground floor, she can see the princess mouthing words, and she somehow hears them, by some kind of magic or godly intervention, she hears them.

A song. The pendant at the princess’ neck glows a radiant blue, the crystal within shining with light.

Their eyes meet, and the song fills her heart, and the sound of her pulse rings in her ears, reinvigorated with life.

Strength returns to her body, the aches in her joints fading away and she stands tall as her opponent enters opposite her. 

She doesn’t understand what’s happening, but fueled with newfound determination and power to push on, she tears her gaze away from the princess, and looks her opponent in the eye. 

She places Yato before her and faces fate.

\---

She hears the deafening roar of the crowd as she sees her opponent collapse on the ground, and she staggers, vision blurring as she barely hears the king announce her victory to the people. Yato falls from her fingers as Silas comes sprinting to her from the entry gate, shouting something at her, and as the woman’s tranquilizing poison saps away her consciousness, she falls to the ground.

The last thing she sees before she passes out is the princess on her feet in the stands, looking straight at her.

\---

She comes to in her bed about a day later, sore and exhausted and groggy. It’s late morning, from what she can tell from the slant of sunlight through her bedroom window.

She expects to see her mother, or her father, or Silas, but instead when she looks to her left she almost blacks out again from shock.

The princess of Valla. At her bedside.

She’s too tired and stunned to say anything, instead stupidly opening and closing her mouth, unable to find words or summon the brain power to even say the proper royal greeting.

Instead, the princess speaks first, her smile gentle and kind, and her voice sounds like starlight.

“Good morning, Corrin, my knight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE I GO AGAIN SAVING THE NAME FOR LAST AND ENTERING PRONOUN HELL LMAO i'm so sorry i just really like things like this and i love using,, present tense...it's such a nice reprieve from my longfic lmao
> 
> i totally fucked up writing this and my friend roman pointed out Corrin's a dragon AND a princess and making Azura a KNIGHT would've been FUCKING PERFECT so now i gotta write another knight princess AU BUT ROLE SWAPPED B/C I PLAYED MYSELF BY NOT MAKING AZURA A PERFECT KNIGHT...CAN YOU BELIEVE...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok whaddup y'all i fucked up and did this chapter instead of my other longfic but AT LEAST I MANAGED TO GET THROUGH sorry for the bit of angst LOL

The first thing Corrin tries to do is sit up and say the proper greeting, but instead all she chokes out is “Y-your hi--” before her broken ribs bring stabs of pain in her chest, and she grimaces as the princess hastily, but gently, helps Corrin into a sitting position against the headboard.

Corrin tries to ignore how the princess’ hands, smooth and uncalloused, feel against her bare skin; she goes a little red in the face when she realizes she’s wearing nothing but shorts and the black bandeau that hides her modesty. The bandages wrapped below it, around her ribcage, cover up most of the cuts and scratches from her time in the arena.

“Please, there’s no need for royal decorum,” Azura says, seemingly uncaring and undisturbed with Corrin’s lack of clothing, and concern appears in the furrow of her brow. “Rest, please.”

Corrin isn’t sure if she’s meant to interpret that as a command or a request, but from royalty, she cautiously assumes the former. “Y-yes, your highness,” she coughs, and Azura reaches for a cup of water at her bedside, and Corrin gratefully accepts the drink, feeling the cool water ease the pain in her dry throat.

She’s unsure of how to react to the princess’ kindness and thoughtfulness, a thousand words running through her mind, but she manages to say, “Thank you, your highness.”

That brings forth a smile on Azura’s face, and Corrin swallows. “Corrin, you may call me Azura. There’s no need to be so formal.”

If she was speechless before, she’s definitely now. To call the royal princess by her name, as if she could be so casually acquainted with  _ the _ princess of Valla. Silas would have a hoot at this.

“I, I can’t possibly,” Corrin stammers, and then Azura reaches out and holds Corrin’s hand in both of her own.

Corrin stares.

“I know you are my knight, Corrin, but,” Azura says, and she pauses, trying to find the right words. “It would mean a great deal to me if I knew that you did not consider yourself below me. Walk and stay by my side, as equals.”

Maybe Azura reads the hesitation in the way Corrin’s hand twitches, unfamiliar with the touch of someone that she’d known, for her whole life, as a person above her station and rank; Azura reaches into a pocket among the folds of her strapless white dress, and places something light and metal in Corrin’s hand.

When Corrin looks down and opens her palm, her breath catches in her throat.

A beautiful, golden brooch lies in her palm, an ornate medallion with a depiction of the Silent Dragon on its surface, the symbol of Valla.

A mark of her knighthood, that she’d earned through sweat and blood.

As if knowing her thoughts, Azura continues, “You’ve done much to get this far, your accomplishments great, Corrin. Don’t doubt yourself.”

Her words, genuine and kind but layered with a kind of noble resolve, makes Corrin all the more aware of the gravity of the situation, and she understands what Azura leaves unsaid.

Something swells up in Corrin’s chest, whether it’s pride or courage or determination, she’s not sure, but when she answer Azura, her voice is strong. “I understand, Azura.”

And as Azura’s hands close more firmly around Corrin’s own, the two meeting each other’s gaze, a bond forms between them that marks the beginning of Corrin’s knighthood.

\---

A week later, the formal ceremony for her to be knighted is held at the castle. Azura had told her beforehand they were going to hold it directly after the tourney, but considering Corrin’s state, the queen and king resolved to move it a week a later, once the king’s royal healer gave the affirmative that Corrin was fit and ready for combat again.

Like all those years ago when she watched her father kneel before the king, Corrin strides down the main hall, her armor polished and clean, her indigo cape washed and fluttering behind her, and Yato resting securely at her side.

As she kneels before Azura and unsheathes her blade, offering it to the princess, she finds herself blinking and trying not to think of Azura’s bare shoulders, her royal attire of gold and blue and white revealing much to the eye. 

She feels the cool metal press against her shoulders as Azura speaks aloud the oath that Corrin’s to swear to the crown and the throne, and she recites the words she’d practice so often, hearing herself bind her loyalty and life to all that is light and good to the realm of Valla.

When she stands, tall and resolute, and slides Yato back into its sheath, Azura steps forward and pins the brooch of knighthood to her chest.

Corrin’s thankful, then, that Azura and the crowd lining the walls can’t see or hear how loudly her heart’s pounding in her chest, for this close, Azura’s beauty is as radiant as the light she swears to protect.

\---

Corrin finds that her duties as a knight reflect similarly to what her father does, except that it consists more of following her charge around than anything else.

And she’s grateful for that, because she would never say aloud that she kinda likes it when Azura wears backless dresses, and her eyes wander. Only a little.

In the first week however, it does bother her a lot more to be Azura’s silent and watchful shadow. She feels like getting a peek into the private life of royalty is overstepping a few bounds, though she knows her father does this, and more.

“Azura, are you alright with me being here?” Corrin asks one day as Azura sits on a bench in a shaded white gazebo in the palace gardens. “If you’d like some privacy, please, let me know. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Azura doesn’t look up from her lap, where she’d be intertwining the stems of several flowers together as she answers thoughtfully, “No, I quite enjoy your company.” 

Corrin makes a face, uncomprehending of how her silently standing in the corner of every room Azura’s in makes for good company, but then Azura glances up at her and asks, “Do...do you have somewhere you’d rather be? I’d rather not keep you here if it bores you.”

“N-no! I’m here to be by your side,” Corrin says, trying to backtrack and prevent further offense. “I...I just feel like I’m intruding,” she says honestly, rubbing the back of her neck and not meeting Azura’s eye. “I don’t really think I’m...that good of company when I’m just...kinda creeping in a corner.”

Azura laughs, and it’s like hearing a song. “Corrin, here, sit next to me.”

Corrin’s also come to learn, within a week, that Azura always requests -- never commands, but it makes her all the more aware that when the time comes and Azura does give an order, she’s meant to obey.

She sits down next to Azura, and Azura continues working at the flowers in her lap. “I enjoy your company, because unlike every other noble who comes to court, you’re honest and sweet.”

Corrin has no response to that, but Azura continues, “Most people who speak to me want something from me, to fulfill their own ends. You’re the first to ask me, aside from my parents and the palace servants, about what  _ I _ want.”

Blinking, Corrin goes still as Azura gently picks up the flower crown in her lap and raises it up, placing it delicately on Corrin’s head.

“Do you remember, when you came to the castle two years ago, with your father?”

Corrin nods, not trusting herself to speak.

“My parents asked me what I thought of you. I believed that you were trustworthy, honorable, and sincere.”

Corrin blushes at the high praise, rubbing the back of her neck again. “I...I only do what’s worthy of being a knight,” she says, feeling like her words are lame compared to Azura’s prose.

“I was right about you then, and I’m glad I’m right about you now. Know this, Corrin,” Azura says, and her smile makes the stars and the moon pale in comparison. “That I am grateful you are at my side.”

Corrin lowers her head in respect, and her hands hastily jump to her hair to prevent Azura’s gift from falling off her head, and Azura laughs again.

\---

Her first real assignment, however, is a few months later; she’s to accompany the princess to the land of Nohr for a diplomatic meeting on trade. 

The night before, she’s in the royal guard barracks with Silas, the woman who’d come in second place at the tourney, who calls herself Kagero, and Kagero’s friend, Kaze -- the one who’d defeated Silas in battle. The three had earned their right to be in the royal guard, after her father had been impressed by their performances, and Corrin’s grateful that they would all be accompanying her on the trip to Krakenburg.

As she carefully examines her hand of cards, Kagero asks her, “So, you and the princess, Corrin?”

Corrin almost breaks her poker face trying to respond. “Uh, what about us?”

Kagero shakes her head and smiles, tossing a chip on the table. “You’re very  _ close _ to her, aren’t you?”

“W-what do you mean?” Corrin asks, and she swallows. 

Kaze tosses in his own chip as he says, “You’re an incredible warrior, Corrin, but you can be incredibly dense at times.”

“I’m not dense!” Corrin says indignantly. “I...I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mutters, but the red on her cheeks says otherwise, and Silas bursts out laughing as he tosses one more chip into the pot.

“C’mon, Corrin, we all know, we’re all friends here,” Silas says humorously. “You guys have a  _ thing _ .”

Corrin slaps her cards facedown on the table, trying to maintain a sense of dignity. “We do not! You guys just think that because I’m her knight.”

Kaze says dryly, “Everytime she wears that formal royal attire at palace balls, you stare at her the entire time.”

“T-that’s because I’m her knight! I’m supposed to keep an eye on her,” Corrin says, but she knows her excuses are flimsy at best; Azura’s formal gown, the one she’d worn to Corrin’s knighthood ceremony, had a long slit that revealed a fair amount of Azura’s gorgeous legs, lean and slender as only a dancer’s could be.

“Right, and whenever she performs, sings, or dances, you look at her like she’s a goddess among us mortals,” Kagero adds, and Corrin can’t find a way out of that one. At the Harvest Ball a month ago, held to celebrate the bountiful crops each year, Corrin had to be shaken out of her reverie by Kaze as she stared open-mouthed at Azura after her performance. 

“Alright, alright, okay, okay,” Corrin says, crossing her arms. “Maybe --  _ okay  _ \-- I think she’s really beautiful. But that’s all me, it’s not like you guys are gonna say she thinks the same of me.”

Kagero and Kaze exchange looks and raised eyebrows as Silas claps a hand over his eyes in exasperation.

“Do you ever wonder why she shows up every morning when you practice sparring with us?” Silas asks.

“Because she wants to make sure I’m in tip-top shape to protect her,” Corrin scoffs. “Why else?”

Kagero clasps her hands in front of her, as if in prayer. “Corrin, she comes out because she wants to see  _ you _ . And what do you normally wear to practice?”

Corrin bites her lip. She normally wears short black shorts and a black workout bra. Any other extra clothing always made her overheat, and if she did wear more layers, she’d strip them off by the end of practice.

And at the end, when she went up to Azura, using a towel to wipe away the sweat at her neck, she’d find Azura’s cheeks pink, but she never thought...

“You also go to her room quite often,” Kaze says, corner of his lip upturned in a crooked, knowing smile. “Want to explain that?”

“Th-that’s--! None of your business,” Corrin says, but a beat later she realizes how that sounds. “She just asks me to join her when she reads,” she says, voice barely audible. “We read books together.”

She always looked forward to those moments when Azura had a reprieve away from royal duties, and the two would go to the castle library, pick out something that interested them both, and they’d head to Azura’s room to sit in her bed, going on adventures together through fiction and fantasy.

If it was late, Azura would lean her head on Corrin’s shoulder as she fell asleep, and Corrin’s heart would always flutter in her chest.

“Uh huh. Read books,” Kagero says, and Corrin whips a card off the table and throws it like a dagger in Kagero’s direction; she easily catches it between two fingers and laughs. 

“If anything, Corrin, you should know that the princess cares a  _ great _ deal about you,” Kaze says, and Corrin can’t bring herself to deny that one truth.

She would see just how much Azura cared about her the next day, and she would learn the truth of what happened at the arena, all those months ago.

\---

The carriage ambles down the dirt path; Corrin sits inside with Azura, while Silas sits outside at the front with the coachman at the reigns while Kagero and Kaze sit at the back, ever watchful of their rear. On either side are four more horsemen, wielding spears and swords and shields -- an entire guarded squad for the princess of Valla.

Corrin had understood her father’s caution, even if it might be excessive. He’d warned of raiders and bandits along the more lawless lands that populated the edges of Nohrian territory, and he’d preferred to be safe than sorry.

Azura sits across from her, elbow resting on the windowsill of the door as she watches the countryside move by. The sun hangs low in the sky, marking a time close to evening, but Kagero and Corrin had agreed earlier to try and make it to the next village, rather than camping out in the wilderness where ambush might be more likely.

Their party continues.

Corrin raps twice on the back of the wall, and hears Silas knock twice back. So far, so good then. No sign of enemies in the evening...For now.

Another few minutes pass, and Corrin feels the hair stand on the back of her neck. It’s too quiet, an almost unsettling silence that makes her heart begin to race.

She knows Kagero and Kaze sense it too, from the way she feels the weight of the carriage shift as they hop to the ground on either side. If the ninjas are off put by the air around them, Corrin knew, then something was amiss.

Kagero makes a hand signal to her through the window, indicating she and Kaze would be moving into the trees on either side of the road. Corrin nods, and watches them disappear into thin air.

Azura, meanwhile, meets her eye. Corrin shakes her head in response, putting a finger to her lips. She needs to  _ hear _ , and she instinctively wraps her hand around Yato’s handle, waiting…

She hears Silas give three knocks as the carriage slows; they’re stopping, and she can almost see in her mind’s eye Silas using hand commands to rearrange the soldiers around the carriage.

The forest is silent around them, the horses themselves somehow sensing too, the need for quiet.

Corrin holds her breath.

She hears it before she sees it.

The telltale whoosh of wind as an arrow slices through the air.

Corrin doesn’t think, only does.

She roughly grabs Azura by the collar of her shirt and hurls her to the floor of the carriage, throwing herself atop her as an arrow pierces through the windows, and she hisses in pain as the arrow makes contact with her left arm.

“ _ Corrin--!” _

Around the carriage erupts chaos. Horses scream as another volley of arrows rains down upon them.

“Stay here!  _ Stay here!” _ Corrin almost snarls as Azura makes a move to sit up, face covered in worry and fear; Corrin feels the blood rushing hot through her veins and out of her wound as she breaks off the end of the arrow. At least they didn’t hit her sword arm.

She knows Kagero and Kaze are doing their jobs when the next volley of arrows counts considerably less than the last. 

Corrin lifts up the seat that she was sitting on and pulls out a shield and hands it to Azura. “Use this, cover yourself,  _ do NOT go outside!” _ She barks, and she knows she’s choosing the risky option, but the faster the bandits are killed, the faster they can get out of here.

Thankfully, the carriage doors aren’t broken, and she rams one open before slamming it closed, gritting her teeth and ignoring the wound in her arm. 

Around them, she sees bandits running through the trees towards their party, and she watches as darts and daggers slice through the air to meet their throats; a few manage to get through, and those few bandits were busy in combat with the soldiers and Silas, and the telltale cling of metal on metal, of metal meeting shield, ring through the air.

Corrin swore an oath. And she would fight to the death to honor it.

She runs into the fray, unsheathing Yato and letting her blade taste blood.

\---

Corrin wobbles on her feet, unsteady, one eye shut as a cut bleeds over it, but she sees well enough to know who the final adversary is.

Hans.

Her father had warned her of this infamous mercenary, a gigantic brute of a man who sought nothing but bloodshed. He hunts only because he can, he kills only because he can, and he laughs at the chaos he wroughts because he can. And his target today is the princess of Valla.

Corrin pants, standing amidst the carnage of several bodies; behind her, she hears Silas dragging himself along the ground, struggling to reach the door to the carriage in an attempt to follow her last orders to him, to get the princess to safety as she bought them time.

Hans has already incapacitated Kagero and Kaze, and Corrin sees their slumped, unconscious forms on the ground behind his massive form.

She’s only felt this exhausted and in pain only once in her life. The only difference is that she might actually die this time.

Might.

Corrin doesn’t doubt for a second, as Hans grins wildly at her, raising his broadsword, that ‘might’ isn’t the right word to use here.

She manages to dodge his first swing, but she staggers, and her vision blurs as she sees her own blood splatter over the ground. She’s been cut too many times. But she needs to buy time.

He punches her, square in the chest, and she feels her feet leave the ground as she slams into a tree, the wind knocked out of her as Yato slips from her fingertips. Darkness creeps into the corners of her vision, and she thinks of her oath to protect the light, and how she’s failed as she slumps on the ground.

Hans laughs, a cold and heartless sound that fills the forest of blood around them as he raises his blade for the final blow.

And somehow, someway, by some kind of magic or godly intervention, Corrin hears it.

A song.

The same one she’d heard when she’d battled Kagero all those months ago.

Energy suddenly shoots through her, like a bolt of lightning, and she gasps; she looks down at her bloodied hands, sees the scrapes and cuts healing, her skin piercing together, and her heart pounds loudly in her chest, reinvigorating her with life. Her vision clears, her lungs fill with the cool air, waking her and bringing her strength.

Hans turns his head, incredulity written across his face, and Corrin sees Azura standing by the carriage, supporting Silas as her voice sings through the air, the pendant around her neck glowing a brilliant blue in the evening light.

Corrin doesn’t bother trying to understand what’s happening. She takes advantage of the opportunity, picks up Yato, and stands tall as Hans whips around to face her, his face twisted in rage and disbelief.

Corrin runs Yato straight through his chest, and then tears the blade out as his body falls to the ground.

And then she’s turning to Azura, to meet her gaze as she had so long ago, but this time it’s Azura sagging to the ground by Silas’ side, and he shouts in shock as the light in the pendant at Azura’s neck fades.

Corrin sprints at Azura, shoving Yato into the ground before Silas places Azura in Corrin’s arms; she looks at Silas, and sees that his wounds too, have healed, and from the way Silas looks up and waves his hand, she knows Kagero and Kaze are up and alive as well.

But it’s the life in her arms that has her heart pounding with fear in her chest.

Azura’s panting, and a sheen of sweat over her skin makes her cool to the touch; her eyes seem to focus and unfocus on Corrin’s face as Azura reaches a shaking hand to grip Corrin’s collar, the other shakily cusping Corrin’s cheek.

“You’re alive,” she breathes, and she winces, as if each word were a dagger in her throat. “You’re alive.”

“I am, I am,” Corrin whispers, and she’s never felt this kind of terror before as she brushes away strands of hair from Azura’s beautiful face, now twisted with pain. “You’re gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

She stands up, carrying Azura in her arms, tears in her eyes and she tries to fight back sobs.

Kagero’s running to her, a horse’s reins in her hands. “Bandit horse,” she pants. “Use it to get to the next city. We’ll catch up.”

Silas helps get them both on the horse, and Corrin’s never ridden a horse that hard in her life, and she urges it to go faster, as fast as it can, faster than light. She has one armed wrapped around the princess’ waist, the other hand gripping the reins as tightly as possible.

Azura only manages to stay conscious for half the ride, but her hand -- it’s so cold, so limp -- covers Corrin’s in a last act of reassurance before her head slumps forward, and Corrin prays, prays to all the gods, to all the dragons, that Azura will live.

There’s the matter of breaking her oath.

But there’s the even greater matter that the person she cares for most in the world will die.

\---

They make it in time.

When the town healer finally opens the door of the infirmary, Corrin’s there in an instant, and the healer has to sit her down and calm her with a glass of water as she tells Corrin that the princess will recover.

The healer, however, shakes her head when Corrin asks what caused it in the first place.

“She...It’s best that she tells you,” the healer says, and then she stands up, giving a sympathetic pat on Corrin’s shoulder. “Let her rest, first. Then you can talk to her tomorrow morning.”

Corrin has a restless sleep that night. Silas, Kagero, Kaze, and only one other soldier made it to the town. They’re all exhausted from the walking trek, and Corrin thanks them each for their work before they all retire to beds of their own in a tavern nearby.

When morning dawns, Corrin pays a courier to send word to Krakenburg that their journey will be delayed, and to send aid if possible. Then she sends a courier to Valla with the same message.

Then she stands outside the infirmary door.

She doesn’t understand it fully, but after a sleepless night, Corrin’s managed to piece something together.

Azura’s power, her song, with her pendant, saves lives.

But at too great a cost.

Corrin opens the door, and Azura’s lying awake on the first bed to the left, and tears fill her eyes when she sees Corrin.

“You’re here,” Azura breathes, and Corrin sits down next to her, but the hard line of her mouth and the furrow of her brow catches Azura off guard.

“Azura, explain.” 

Azura opens her mouth, takes in Corrin’s stiff posture, her clenched fists.

She explains the power of Valla, the power of the Silent Dragon. And the price to pay for it is one that the royal family’s known for generations. 

Corrin pinches the bridge of her nose, shutting her eyes tight as a storm of emotions wrack her chest. “So  _ why _ would you  _ almost _ pay that price for me?”

Azura reaches a hand out, tears filling her eyes for a different reason, but Corrin pulls her hand away, her gaze hard.

“I was going to die, fulfilling my oath to you,” Corrin says, trying to fight back the stinging in her vision. “I’m supposed to be the one that protects you, shields you, defends you from the darkness. I’m supposed to keep you safe and _ alive. _ ”

“Corrin--”

“And you almost  _ died _ because of me!” Corrin says, a sob shakes her chest. “You almost  _ died _ saving me. It shouldn’t have been like that.  _ You shouldn’t do that!” _

“And  _ why not?” _ Azura asks fiercely, her own hands balled into fists in her lap. “I  _ wanted _ to save you, I want--”

“What you  _ want _ doesn’t matter!” Corrin almost shouts, and she stands up, her chair screeching along the floor behind her. “The  _ people _ of Valla need you, the  _ world _ needs you, your  _ parents _ need you, and you almost threw all of that away for  _ me!” _

_ I need you. _

Corrin can’t bear to meet Azura’s gaze and she turns her head as she adds in a low voice, “I’m just a knight. I’m replaceable. You’re not.”

She turns and leaves the room, not waiting for Azura’s answer.

\---

King Xander sends a squad of Nohrian soldiers to escort them to Krakenburg, along with a new carriage. Azura recovers, and their party continues on.

Corrin sits by the coachman outside. She assigns Silas to sit inside the carriage with the princess.

It’s inevitable, of course, that they have to talk to each other. They exchange only a few words when necessary, both averting their gazes from each other. The rest of the trip continues in the same fashion.

They never talk about what they spoke of in the infirmary. Corrin hates looking at Azura’s pendant.

Her heart aches, too, but she does everything she can not to show it. 

Kagero murmurs to her, as they’re a day outside the capitol and they’re setting up camp, “Have you at least thanked her?”

Corrin says nothing, and she strikes the flint maybe a little too hard. “No, I haven’t.”

Kagero sighs, lowering herself to rest on her haunches next to Corrin, and the two watch flames rise from the sparks. “She almost gave up her life for you. The least you could do is thank her, if you’re not gonna talk to her.”

The flint digs into her fingers as she clenches it. “She almost  _ died _ saving me, Kagero. Some fucking knight I am.”

She’s startled when Kagero suddenly has a vice-like grip on her wrist. “Corrin, listen,” she says sharply. “People make mistakes--”

“That get people fucking  _ killed?” _ Corrin hisses. “All of you almost  _ died--” _

“You’re not  _ invincible _ ,” Kagero shoots back, and her voice goes a little cold. “She never expects you to be. She only ever expects -- and hopes for -- you to be there for her. Think about why she saved you, you idiot.”

Corrin turns her gaze away from Kagero’s piercing stare, because she knows the truth, deep in her heart and soul, of why Azura saved her.

\---

They reach the capital of Nohr safely, and Corrin stands by Azura’s side, silent and watchful as the princess of Valla carefully negotiates with King Xander a new trade agreement. Thankfully, King Xander is kind, honorable, and he doesn’t seem to notice the tremble of Azura’s voice as she speaks. He agrees to send another escort of Nohrian soldiers with their party to make sure they’re seen safely home.

The trip back to Valla is smooth sailing.

When they return, her father immediately insists that she take a break, gesturing at her sleepless appearance, the bags underneath her eyes, the perpetual grimace that seemed plastered to her mouth. Silas, Kagero, and Kaze all glance at each other, and murmur their agreement, much to Corrin’s chagrin.

The king and queen agree too when they get a look at Azura’s knight, and Corrin grits her teeth at their worried expressions, wishing that they were angry and furious and that they would punish her, rather than try and care for her wellbeing. When she tries to tell them that, they shake their heads, echoing what Kagero had told her before, that there was nothing she could have done, that she did well facing the most dangerous man in the three kingdoms.

Corrin hates that, and when she’s dismissed, she has to clench her fists to keep from crying at the king and queen’s benevolence.

She doesn’t see Azura for a week, and she instead lies in bed, tangled in her blankets, face pressed into her pillow.

One morning, she opens a bleary eye to look at the golden medallion on her nightstand, the brooch that symbolized so much and more.

She picks it up, and then hurls it across the room, where it clatters onto the ground.

She gets up an hour later, bending down and carefully holding the cool metal in her hand, shoulders slumped as she gazes down at the first gift Azura had given her.

\---

The first day Corrin returns to her duties, she arrives at the castle in the early morning, and heads straight to Azura’s room.

Her heart hammers inside her chest, but she has to do this, to keep Azura safe and alive.

She knocks, lightly, on the door, two raps.

She waits, staring at her own bare feet, and the door opens.

She glances up to see Azura, in a white nightdress, and hears that small, sharp intake of breath when she sees who stands outside her door.

“Corrin,” Azura breathes, and Corrin’s heart twists inside her chest. The way her name sounded on those lips...

“May I speak with you, your Highness?” Corrin asks, crossing her hands behind her back.

Azura blinks at the formal address, but she takes a step back to let Corrin through, and she closes the door behind her once Corrin’s inside.

Corrin summons every single ounce of courage in her body, but it’s not enough and she can’t quite meet Azura’s eye as she says what she’s rehearsed to herself a hundred times.

“Your Highness,” she starts, and she unbuckles the brooch on her chest before kneeling, her gaze turned towards the ground around Azura’s bare feet. “I have failed you, as a knight, and am no longer worthy of bearing the title. I must decline the honor you’ve given me and return this to you, and I resign from my position at once.”

She raises the brooch above her, and all she can hear is the rapid pulse inside her ears as she awaits judgment.

“May I ask, Lady Corrin, why you believe you’ve failed me?” Azura’s voice trembles, only a little.

The brooch remains in her hands, and Corrin swallows, and she says to the floor as her voice cracks, “I swore to ensure that your life remains safe and secure, to shield you from that which may bring you suffering, and to protect you from harm.”

She has to stop to swallow again, feeling the stinging at the corners of her eyes, but she goes on. “I have failed to do all of those things. I don’t deserve to be by your side.”

There’s so much more she wants to say, but she doesn’t know how. 

But to be the cause of Azura’s suffering, in more ways than one. That hurts the most.

There’s a moment of silence, and Corrin’s hands shake, and she feels a bead of sweat down her neck.

She feels  Azura’s gentle hands clasp over her own; startled, she almost looks up but instead, she sees Azura kneel down in front of her, and Corrin quickly averts her gaze, the brooch still in her sweaty palms.

Their faces are so close, and still, Corrin can’t bear to look.

“Corrin,” Azura says softly. “Look at me.”

Corrin grits her teeth and her body tenses. It’s the one command she can’t follow.

“Oh, Corrin,” Azura whispers, and her voice makes Corrin’s heart break a little more. “Don’t cry.”

Corrin blinks, uncomprehending, but then she feels Azura’s thumb gently brush over her cheek, wiping away a single tear. What really throws her off balance is when she sees Azura lean forward, in the corner of her eye, and Azura’s lips brush across her cheeks, kissing away the tears as they fall freely down her face.

Corrin crumbles apart, then. She drops the brooch and she openly sobs, her chest tight with emotion as she reaches forward and grips the sides of Azura’s dress, bunching up the cloth in her fists. Azura cups her face in her hands, all the time gentle and delicate as she brushes away the tiny droplets of Corrin’s grief.

And Corrin hates it, hates herself, hates that she leans into Azura’s touch and that Azura doesn’t pull away and that Azura only kisses her tear-stained cheeks even more.

“Corrin,” Azura says, her breath warm on Corrin’s face; though her voice is quiet, Corrin can hear the noble strength within. “You did not fail me.”

Corrin tries to shake her head, but Azura’s hands are firm around her face.

“You did not fail me,” she repeats. “What I did back then, I did of my own accord. You would not have been able to stop me, even if you’d had the ability to.”

“But why?” Corrin says, hoarse. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Because you’re worth it,” Azura says, each word full of emotion. “You are worth the world to me.”

Corrin can’t believe what she’s hearing, and she finally meets Azura’s gaze.

She finds a fierceness in those golden eyes, and she finds herself going still.

“You are  _ not _ replaceable,” Azura says. “You are my knight, you are my best friend, and,” Azura takes a second to compose herself as she whispers, “You are the one I love most in this world, and a world without you is one I’d do anything not to have.”

Corrin has no words.

She loosens her fists from Azura’s nightdress, reaches up to hold Azura’s face in her own hands, and kisses her.

Azura is caught off guard for a split second, but she leans in as she closes her eyes, her fingers tangling in Corrin’s hair as they pull each other closer.

Corrin’s heart feels full. 

When they break apart, their lips brush as they catch their breath, and Corrin finally finds the words she’s wanted to say all this time.

“Then know that I feel the same, and that I would not be able to bear a world without you,” Corrin says, looking into that beautiful face she’s come to love so dearly. “I promise I’ll stay by your side, but promise me something in return.”

“What is it?” Azura says, touching her forehead against Corrin’s.

“Promise me you won’t use that power,” Corrin says, and she puts every ounce of strength she can into every word. “ _ Promise me. _ We’ll find a way to survive, to live, without it, as long as we’re together.”

Hesitation flickers across Azura’s face, but Corrin doesn’t falter, keeping her gaze locked on Azura’s.

“If that’s the price to pay to have you at my side,” Azura says finally. “Then so be it. But I must ask another thing of you to do for me.”

“Anything,” Corrin says, breathless.

Azura kisses her again, and Corrin maybe leans a little too far into it, because then Azura’s flat on her back on the floor, with Corrin on all fours, hovering above her. Neither of them mind; it’s easier to kiss this way, anyway.

What matters is that they’re together. 

When they stop to catch their breath again, Azura says, “Teach me to fight, as you do, as the other guards do. It won’t do for me to be defenseless the next time I’m attacked.”

Corrin laughs a little, and Azura’s nails scratch lightly down the back of her neck as she looks incredulously at Corrin. 

“What’s so funny? It’s a serious request!”

“I know, I know,” Corrin says, and she finds herself grinning for the first time in a long time, and Azura’s face softens. “I’ll teach you. I’m just wondering what you’ll wear.”

“What I’ll wear?” Azura asks, brow furrowed in confusion.

As Corrin leans her head down to press more kisses along Azura’s jawline and down her neck, she breathes, “I know for a fact you like what I wear when I spar in the morning.”

Corrin gives a yelp when Azura’s legs abruptly hook around her waist, with Azura’s hands grasping her collar; then she’s the one flat on her back on the ground as Azura straddles her.

“It’s not  _ my _ fault you spar half-naked,” Azura says lowly in Corrin’s ear. “Don’t  _ tease _ me.”

“Is that an order, your Highness?” Corrin says, and her laugh is cut short as Azura kisses her again.

“You’re awful.”

“I love you, too.”

Azura blinks, and she leans down to place her forehead against Corrin’s, the two gazing into each other’s eyes, gold to red.

“And I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also azura's formal attire is her Diva dress outfit from Warriors lmao  
> THANKS FOR READING!!! i really appreciate y'all who are here reading azurrin in the year of our lord 2k18 years after fates was released lmao


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